Partners
by Hockey35
Summary: Tag to Mr. Yin Presents... / Juliet needed comfort. That wasn't Lassiter's specialty. Written as Juliet/Lassiter friendship. Lassiet if you want it to be.


_**Tag to Mr. Yin Presents… the comfort that I really wanted from this episode. This is not intended to be Lassiet, but if you want to read it that way, kudos to you. I'm 100% all about Lassiter and Jules being hella protective of each other and you can't tell me he wouldn't die for Juliet, or worse, be sensitive and sweet.**_

 _ **This is my first foray into Psych-fic, so please be gentle. This is unedited and rough. Feedback is great.**_

 _ **Dedicated to my best friend. She's the worst and she knows it.**_

* * *

She was fine. She didn't need the paramedics. She didn't need the crisis counselor. She didn't even need the mandatory paid administrative leave that Vick was going to be forcing her to take.

She was _fine_.

She was the furthest from the victim. She was a detective. The detective worthy of being partnered with the head detective.

"I said I'm **fine**. Just– stop!" Juliet pulled away from the paramedic was still trying to assess her vitals, insisting it was 'routine'. She knew routine. Nothing about this had been _routine_.

Juliet felt fire run through her veins as the paramedic reached for her again and for a moment she swore she was back in the darkness, overpowered by Yin.

Overpowered.

Power _less_.

The fight or flight response was very involuntary, and Juliet was about to lash out at the paramedic in a way that would more than certainly get her point across before she heard a voice that grounded her back in reality.

"Did you not hear her? She said back off, jack ass."

 _Lassiter_.

Juliet took a deep breath, clenching her hands into fists and screwing her eyes shut as the paramedic huffed and walked away. _Deep breaths. Deep, cleansing breaths._ It wasn't really working and suddenly she was enveloped in a tall, lanky shadow that could only belong to her partner with that strong, Irish hairline Shawn loved to mock.

He didn't say anything, and Juliet didn't want to hear whatever it was he was going to try to comfort her with. "I'm fine, Carlton. I just… I don't need some kid telling me about being in shock or PTSD or…" Her body was trembling and it wasn't because of the chilled wind whipping up against her skin on the roof of the clocktower. Blackness encroached around the edges of her vision and for a moment, the whole world swayed.

And then he did it.

 _Damnit, Lassiter._

All it took was slightly outstretched arms, there for support. And Juliet took that support, gripping his arms tightly.

And then the tears came. Followed by the sobs. Followed by the adrenalin leaving and her legs failing her and suddenly, Lassiter was all that was keeping her from falling to the ground. Not that you could tell – he would never hurt her dignity like that. He barely flinched, supporting all of her weight as he pulled her tightly against his chest and let her shaking sobs shake her entire body. Quiet reassurances passed his lips as his hands traced soft circles in her back and if Juliet hadn't been so consumed by her panic attack, she would be consumed by how soft Carlton Lassiter was in this moment.

When she pulled away, she realized that only a few minutes – not an entire lifetime – had passed and her hands shook viciously as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. A handkerchief was carefully placed in her hand to help dry the tear tracks down her cheeks. Again, care taken to preserve her dignity.

"Thank you." The words came out on a whisper and received no response. Because it needed no response. Because she didn't need to thank him.

He was her _partner_. This was his job – just as important as protecting the civilians in Santa Barbara.

Perhaps more.

Lassiter struggled with the soft stuff; the comfort, the reassurance, the gentleness. He was more suited for getting angry and _boy_ was he angry. If he got his hands on Yin… he felt his body tense with rage before feeling O'Hara recoil. He couldn't do this; not now. This wasn't about him.

This was about his partner.

"Where are we going, Detective?" His voice was even and low, giving her as much power back in this situation as he could. Carlton felt Juliet's hands tremble as she steadied herself again, bracing herself on his arms again.

"Just… get me off this rooftop." The smallest quiver in her voice told Lassiter he needed to move fast, but delicately. A careful hand rested against her upper back, guiding her gently forward but never leaving.

Again, her mind drifted back to walking up these winding stairs. She was so certain that Yin would just drop her off the side or hang her by the neck or somehow have her actually attacked by a flock of birds a la Alfred Hitchcock. She had thought of Shawn and Lassiter and Gus and of all of her missed opportunities.

The dulled click of doors unlocking pulled Juliet out of her torturous thoughts as Lassiter opened the passenger door, pretending to fish out some documentation before stepping away and leaving the door open. Only Lassiter would find a way to open the door for her without opening the door. It brought the smallest twinge of warmth to her as she slid into the car, pulling the door closed behind her.

/

When Lassiter put the car in park and turned the engine off in front of O'Hara's place, she had to admit she was surprised. Usually, she was lucky if she got enough time to not have to roll out of a slowly moving vehicle. This time, Lassiter was out of the sedan before she was and he was already moving to her side of the car. Juliet had nothing left – her arms felt like noodles and her chest was so heavy she could hardly breathe.

"Chief wants me to make sure your place is clear before I drop you off. And I'm starved. How bout you?"

His statement was simple and could be easily played off, but Juliet knew what he was doing. "I could eat. I've got some left-over spaghetti I can throw in the microwave."

Lassiter nodded, turning from the vehicle and waiting for Juliet to get out before marching towards her apartment. She unlocked the door, feeling a hitch in her chest. What if he was waiting for her. What if Yin had just allowed her to escape only to throw her back in hell from within her own home. She reached for the gun at her belt, feeling naked when her fingers came back empty. A moment of panic before something cool and metallic was pressed into her hand – Lassiter's back-up.

If the Chief knew that Juliet had a gun, she'd be in deep. Add in the fact that it was Lassiter's back-up – his baby that no one touched but him – and they'd both be in deep. But it didn't matter because the means to protect herself had calmed at least two of her nerves.

Carlton entered the apartment first, his gun held tightly in his hand. It only took about five minutes to clear a house the size of Juliet's, but Lassiter took fifteen. He was going to be absolutely certain there was no one – no _thing_ – that could set her off.

"I'm going to check the backyard again, but the house is clear."

"I'll get started on dinner."

/

Juliet had left Lassiter alone to clean up the dishes, at his insistence, to go take a much-needed shower. That had been about thirty minutes ago and she hadn't made it farther than letting the scalding water soak her body. The line between the shower water and her tears had been blurred and she wasn't sure that was such a bad thing.

Her fingers traced over the bruises on her wrists and biceps from the tight ropes that had held her in place for Yin's game. The skin on her cheeks were still sticky with the residue from the tape that had kept her silent while she waited for death. Juliet's chest tightened in response to the memory and she wrenched her eyes closed again, willing the thoughts away.

Distantly, she could hear her cell phone buzzing on the bathroom countertop. It was ignored, like the other fifteen times before.

Then there was a light tap on her bathroom door. "O'Hara?"

 _Lassiter._

"I just… uh…" He was fumbling for the right words, clearly unsure what to say.

"I'm ok, Carlton. Just… just give me a minute." The water shut off five minutes later. Ten minutes after that, Juliet emerged from the bathroom with her wet hair pulled back in a messy bun and a plush robe pulled tightly around her pajama-covered body.

Her eyes drifted to the clock behind Carlton. It was almost eleven at night. The fear of being alone, the anxiety of Yin appearing in her home, seized her body tightly and she felt the tremble return.

"It's late." Her voice was distant, soft.

Carlton, even as unfamiliar with softness and support as he was, could see the signs of another panic attack coming. Juliet was faced with being alone – something that would leave her with not but her thoughts of the previous night with Yin. Lassiter scrubbed the back of his head with an anxious fist. "Yeah, I, uh, got a call from Vick. She wants me to stay on a protective detail. For tonight, at least. So, I'll be in the car out front."

Again, realization of what he was doing didn't miss her. Carlton was giving her another out. Another chance to ask for help without showing what she would stubbornly state was weakness. "Carlton, don't be ridiculous. The couch is yours." The faintest of smiles was on her face and she could feel the tension relax.

Lassiter nodded, turning and walking from the hallway out to his car to get his overnight bag. When he came back in, a pillow and comforter had already been deposited on the couch for him next to a warm mug of coffee – complete with three creams and four sugars. Juliet was tucked into the armchair not far from the couch, the TV quietly playing some old black and white movie.

He placed the night bag next to the couch, securing the door behind him and placing his pistol on the coffee table. The haunted look in Juliet's face returned and Lassiter recognized all too readily the need to avoid the PTSD nightmares that awaited. "If we're staying up all night, you're gunna have to find something better than this old-timey crap." He let the trademark Lassiter-smirk crawl across his face as he pulled a few DVDs out of the overnight bag and Juliet was suddenly wondering if it was more of a Mary Poppins bag than the bad-ass go bag Carlton wanted everyone to think it was.

"Police Academy?"

"All seven of them."

Juliet sighed as Carlton put the first disc into the DVD player, pulling the throw blanket up over her shoulders and tucking it under her chin. She was thankful for the distraction – for anything – to keep her awake and keep her mind off the events of the past twenty-four hours. But, like all things, it didn't last. After the first act of the second movie, Juliet had nodded off to sleep.

This didn't escape Lassiter and he was keenly aware of the awkward position in which she had fallen asleep. He was already aware of how stiff she must have been after being restrained by Yin. Another night in a constricted position would do her no good.

He moved quietly from the couch, scooping her small frame into his long arms. She was lighter than he expected – not that she appeared heavy. Juliet's presence always carried more weight than she did.

Lassiter moved carefully up the stairs, stepping into her bedroom carefully. He averted his eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the details of her room. It felt like a violation of her privacy; like he was peeking into her diary or something.

Gently pulling back the covers, Lassiter laid Juliet down and pulled the blankets back over her. Her pensive expression did not escape him and he was keenly aware of the nightmares she was experiencing. Lassiter left her room, leaving the bedroom door cracked open – he wouldn't admit it was more for his comfort than hers. Again, rage surged through him and this time he allowed himself to indulge in the feeling. Visions of what he would do to Yin – half of them ending with multiple gunshots to the head, the other ending with Yin bloodied to a pulp by Lassiter's fists – ran through his mind and he felt his fists clenching involuntarily. " _Bastard._ " It was quiet but carried his anger.

No one hurt his _partner_ and got away with it.

/

She felt like hell and like she never actually rested, but Juliet knew she got some sleep. However, she could have sworn she fell asleep in the armchair in the living room. Her hands spread across the bed searchingly for her phone, comforted when her fingers brushed against both the phone and Lassiter's back-up gun – safety on – under the spare pillow on her bed. _Lassiter_.

"Lassiter." The name came out softly and Juliet realized that it was six in the morning and her partner had likely left for work. Panic wanted to consume her, but Juliet made herself calm down. She grabbed the gun and her phone before carefully making her way downstairs. Her eyes focused on the empty couch as she finished her descent – now empty with comforter neatly folded and pillows resting on top.

He was gone.

Juliet moved to the couch, taking a seat and placing her phone – but not the gun – down on the coffee table. Her fingers brushed against cool metal and Juliet realized it was Lassiter's badge. For a moment, there was worry. He would never go to work without his badge.

And then it hit her. Again.

It was his way of telling her he would be back. Her fingers traced over the grooves in the badge and she became aware that she had no idea where the hell her badge was. Her gaze was locked on the badge, her mind drifting back to the script Yin had forced her to read to Shawn.

" _You can still save Abigail."_

It had been the right thing to say but _damn_ had she not meant it. Juliet wanted them to come save her so badly and she felt so guilty that she had felt that way. She was a detective. She should have had better resolve. She should have been stronger.

She shouldn't have gotten caught.

"I brought coffee and bagels." Lassiter's voice cut through her reverie as he stood in the doorway, holding the breakfast in his hands light a peace offering.

"Too much of a stereotype to bring donuts?"

"Apparently, it was donut day for Spencer and Guster. They bought them all up."

Juliet laughed – a genuine laugh – and both relaxed in the moment. "Thanks."

"For breakfast? You can get it next time."

"No, Lassiter. For…."

He handed her the coffee. "We need to get you down to the station later so Vick can tell you to take the administrative leave we both know you're not taking."

And that was it. No more conversation. No more mention of his kind act.

After all, they were _partners_.


End file.
